Silk Trek
by actionman81
Summary: When Captain Will Riker is inadvertently cloned again, he finds himself on 20th Century Earth, and meets Rita Lance, former police detective.


Stardate 48318.3

Will Riker stared out the window of his quarter on the galaxy class starship Enterprise and out into the inky blackness of deep space. He sighed as he remembered her, his Imzadi. Deanna Troi and what had happened thus far in their relationship. "Oh," he groaned, turning his head towards the door of his room. It had remained closed for several hours. Having been released from his temporary post of duty watch, he had retired for much needed nap. That, he remembered with disdain, had been a huge mistake.  
No one can control their thoughts, much less their subconscious. And Will's sleep had been nothing short of a nightmare as he had recalled the events that had caused it. To be blunt, Worf and Deanna were engaged. "They couldn't be more wrong for each other," he thought, "Deanna is a half human, half Betazoid empath. She's gentle and very sensitive to the needs and feelings of others. And Worf… he's a fierce Klingon warrior, dedicated to a harsh and hostile code of honor," Will felt a sharp pain in his chest as more memories flooded in, "They came together, by a need to help Alexander, Worf's son. Poor kid, his mother's dead," Will felt mixed feelings. His heart went out for the small Klingon boy, but then he couldn't deny what had transpired between his Deanna and Worf, "The two of them found hidden reserves of courage and compassion within each other. But all too soon, that mutual respect led to much stronger emotions as they fell in love," Will stood up, and shook his head in despair. Perhaps some Synthehol would help drown his mood. "Door open," he said, and walked through the opening sliding doors into the hallway. Sitting in Ten Forward, he looked out blankly over the bar. Guinan picked up his empty container and said, "Too bad,"  
"What?" Riker replied, blinking and looking at her quizzically  
"You know what you are? You're a waste of a perfectly good Commander,"  
"Oh well thanks," he said sarcastically, "if you hadn't told me, I'd never have known it,"  
"You know what you need?" she said, a matter of fact tone to her voice "What?" he said curtly  
"A break, a vacation, some time to relax,"  
"Yeah," he grinned, "But the Holodeck isn't my style,"  
"Well, fine. But Lieutenant Barclay seems to think it's just great," she finished, walking off to attend to other patrons.  
"You know Commander, it is a shame that you could not visit what early twenty first century humans called 'the beach'," It was Data. The pale android sat on the seat next to Will and continued, "I have been reading an ancient electronic text and image manual on this item. 'The beach' as it was called, was a zone above the water line at a shore of a body of water, marked by an accumulation of sand: a sedimentary material, finer than a granule and coarser than silt, with grains between 0.06 and 2.0 millimeters in diameter, stone: concreted earth or mineral matter, or gravel: an unconsolidated mixture of rock fragments, that has been deposited by the tide or waves. This fine grain like substance called 'sand' fascinates me. I find it intriguing that in the early twenty first century, people would bury their feet and other extremities to relax. I cannot understand how burying oneself in anything could cause relaxation when Counselor Troi manages to do a far superior job of this by one of her sessions," At the sound of Deanna's name, Will's eyebrows knitted in frustration. Data, however didn't notice this, "Why even Lieutenant Commander Worf stated that he feels exceptionally relaxed after spending time with" But he did not finish his sentence. Will had taken hold of Data's shoulder and held it firmly. "Is something wrong Commander?" Data questioned innocently, oblivious of his word's effects on Riker. Will forced himself to smile, which resulted in a grimace, and almost growled in a low voice, "Data, stop talking,"  
"Yes sir," he replied, not budging from his seat.

Riker spent that evening going through some electronic text and image manuals. The more he read about this phenomenon called the beach, the more he felt it would be the perfect place to forget about the sordid turn of events for him and Deanna. But he realized one problem, as Data had said; the notion of a beach was ancient, several hundred years old. How could he possibly get to a real beach? The Holodeck couldn't be used for this. He needed something tangible, not just a hologram.

Will walked down to the engine room, Geordi was there, and making sure that the ship was running smoothly. After a bit of small talk, Will posed the question. "Well," the visored engineer replied, "Data's right that beaches are centuries old. There's no way you could get to any thing remotely like it now, at least there's nothing nearby that comes close to it,"  
What about…" Riker hesitated, "what about time travel?" he waited for the lecture  
"Come on Will, you know that time travel is against orders. It's even against the Prime Directive. But theoretically speaking, it could be done. As velocity approaches light speed time for that object slows, and that time for that object ceases at light speed. If we exceeded light speed, we would go backward in time. But something like that would work in theory for a starship, but not for a single person,"  
"Yeah, you're right," Will said, forcing a smile, which yielded better results than his previous attempt, "I guess I'll have to make do with the Holodeck," he said, walking off  
"Hey, the Holodeck isn't as bad as you think!" Geordi called out

-

Rita Lorenzo bent down and fastened the Velcro closures of her son's lighted sneakers. She stood up and tousled his dark hair, "Come on Chris," she said, turning and picking up her shoulder bag from the dining table. Chris jumped up and followed his mother out the door and towards their 1998 black Jeep Cherokee. Rita started the car, checked that her son had his seat belt fastened, and then backed the car out of the driveway and headed towards the beach. Usually, the energetic six-year-old would talk about almost any subject that fascinated him, but today he was noticeably quiet. "What's wrong Sweetheart?" she asked him, when they stopped at a stoplight.  
"Nothing," he replied quickly. Rita could tell he was lying, it was so obvious, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get the truth out of him unless he was ready. All she could do was wait and worry.

The past six years hadn't been easy for her. Having left Palm Beach after her best friend, husband and partner Chris Lorenzo was killed, she felt she had nothing left there. Though she loved Cap and Frannie, as Captain Harry Lipschitz and his wife were known to her, like parents, she knew she had to get away, at least for some time. She had moved across America to San Diego and was teaching at the local police academy. It had been hard, but at least she had made a new life for herself and her son. Cap and Frannie visited whenever they could, and that helped, but for the most part, Rita struggled as a single parent, alone.  
"Ok, here we are," she said, as she pulled the Cherokee into a parking space. She and Chris came to the beach on the weekends so he could stretch out a bit. Their apartment was a bit small for the rambunctious boy and the beach was the perfect place for him to play.

As she sat on her towel and watched her son run along the shore, she wished that Chris, her Chris, could be here with her. "Oh, how I want you to be able to see your son grow up," she said to no one in particular.

-

"Well number one," said Captain Picard, "I suppose I could allow you some 'time off' as it were, if you feel you are incapable of completing your duties in your current state of being,"  
"Well, I wouldn't put it that way Sir," replied Riker, "But I would appreciate a week's stationing at a nearby starbase,"  
"Well, that seems like a reasonable request number one," replied Picard, making a note on his lighted data pad

Will stood in the transporter, dressed in some non Starfleet attire- gray stretch pants and a dark blue pullover shirt. There would be at least a change of clothes at the starbase and he was sure there would be a fabric cleanser there as well. Will had his type 2 phaser clipped to his pants as well as his tricorder in its holster, just in case he was needed, which he hoped he wouldn't be.  
"Go ahead Geordi," he said to the dark skinned engineer. Geordi pressed a number of buttons on the lighted display board and there was a shimmering of light as Riker… flickered and reappeared in the transporter, as though he had never left.

-

The beachgoers were petering off as dark clouds moved in the skies above them. Rita picked up her towel and bag and soon found her son, building a sandcastle. She was about ten feet away from him when she saw three older, bigger boys jog over to him. They stopped a few feet ahead of where he sat in the sand, and laughed at a shared joke. They then raced over and mercilessly knocked down his sandcastle. As they ran off, away from the boy, Chris's eyes welled up with tears. Soon they were streaming down his face as Rita came up to him, "Oh Chris, I'm so sorry," she said, helping him up and wiping his tears with her hand, looking at the wristwatch on her other hand, she realized how late it was getting, "Come on, its time to go," she took his hand and they walked towards the parking lot.

As Rita buckled her son's seat belt, he asked her, "Ma, why don't I have a Dad?" Rita didn't know what to say. She knew that this moment would come someday, and that she'd have to talk to Chris about what happened to his father. "Why do you want to know?" she asked him, trying to sound casual "All the other kids in my class have a dad or they got a step dad. Jimmy had two dads and they both give him stuff on Christmas and his birthday. Susie's dad yelled at Jack for pushing her in the mud after school last Wednesday. How come I don't have a dad who can yell at the big kids who keep breaking my sand castles?" Rita sighed, "You've got a dad, Chris, but he's not here now. I'll tell you more about him once we get home,"

-

Riker stared at Geordi as the visored Engineer stared back at him. "What happened?" Riker asked, a quizzical look upon his face. "I have no idea" Geordi replied, looking down at the lighted display board, "It says here that you've already left the Enterprise,"  
"What?" Riker asked again, walking towards where Geordi was standing. Just then, Data came up to the two men, "Perhaps Commander, it is somewhat similar to what happened to you at a previous time. I recall a mission where you were replicated due to a transporter accident and Lieutenant Commander Thomas Riker was created," A previous accident involving the transporter had indeed occurred and Riker's, to use an inexact word, twin was seemingly Riker's duplicate in every way, including his love for Deanna Troi. Thomas Riker was sent off to command another starship, leaving Will the only Riker aboard the Enterprise. "Perhaps it was that, Data," said Geordi, looking at the readout on the blinking display screen, which showed clearly that Riker had indeed left the Enterprise via the transporter. The light appearing on the screen was getting fainter and fainter as the blip moved farther away. "That's odd," said Geordi, "Whatever left us, its gone way past your destination point, and in fact, I can't even trace it anymore," Riker looked at Geordi and Data, his head cocked to one side as he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

-

By now, night has well set onto the beach, and there was hardly anyone there. Even if there were, not one would have seen the shimmering of light behind one of the farthest lifeguard stations, as Will appeared on the beach. Riker looked around him. There was ocean as far as he could see to his right. To his left, he could see the stretch of beach and after that there was the parking lot. He removed his boots and slid his feet into the soft sand. "Data will never understand how good this feels," he thought. Just then, a stray Doberman sauntered up to Will. As soon as he saw the stranger, the dog's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth. Growling, he came up behind Riker and got ready to pounce. Will heard the growling behind him and began slowly walking away, but the dog followed him. Throwing his boots at the dog, Will broke into a run. Sure, Starfleet officers might be able to handle alien terrorists from Rebus, but he knew from his childhood days in Alaska that you never wanted to mess with an angry dog. The Doberman chased Will across the beach to the parking lot. Looking back to see if the dog was still behind him, Riker didn't see the ledge of cement that separated the beach from the parking lot. He tripped on it and fell knee first onto the hard cement parking lot. Will heard the scraping sound of cloth-covered flesh hitting the ground. As almost an afterthought, he remembered his phaser and quickly shot a low-grade beam at the dog, startling him enough to make the animal turn away, yelping. Will stood up, and then noticed his torn pants and bloody knees. He tore two strips from his shirt and made makeshift bandages out of them, covering up his injured legs. Hardly anyone was on the streets that night. Will walked along the sidewalk next to the beach for a few blocks, seeing that there wasn't much action going on. He stopped and leaned against a light pole. Doing so, he saw his torn clothes and missing footwear emphasized in the bathe of the yellowish white glow of the light. As he turned to walk on, the wind picked up. Bits of trash and papers flew against him. He saw remnants of a department store circular. There were shoes, clothes and even medical first aid supplies listed there. Will looked up and saw a lighted sign of the store's name. He ran through the shadows towards the store. The store was closing up for the night, so he went to the rear of the store. There was a truck pulling away from the rear entrance and a store attendant was loading boxes into the supply area. Riker darted in while the man's back was turned and hid behind a stack of boxes. When the lights had been turned off and everyone had left the building, Will emerged from his hiding place and slipped into the main area of the store. In the light of the passing cars through the store's windows, Will saw some shirts hanging from a rack. He slipped a maroon t-shirt off a hanger and held on to it. He walked around quietly, taking a pair of dark blue jeans, white athletic socks and a cloth web belt as he went along. He went over to the shoe section and grabbed a white and black leather sneaker from a box on the shelf and placed it sole to sole against his bare foot. It was too small, so he took the next one; it was a perfect fit. He took it and went on. He took a package of gauze bandages and a brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide. Just before he left the store, he snatched a pair of red and white cotton heart print boxers and a black backpack also. He went into the storeroom again and changed, peeling off his tattered shirt and pant. He removed his Starfleet regulation shorts as well and then cleaned off his wounded knees. He then pulled on the boxers and t-shirt. Next he belted the jeans and wore them, along with his shoes and socks. Then, the phaser, tricorder and his torn clothes as well as the half-empty bottle of hydrogen peroxide and the leftover bandages went into the backpack. He slung the backpack over his shoulders and was about to head back out into the night when he remembered that he had seen sleeping bags and tents, the ancient style of bedding that he had read about as a boy in history manuals. Walking back into the store, he saw a tent set up in a corner. He went up to it and looked inside. There was a pasty male mannequin sitting there, dressed in a flannel shirt and cargo pants. Riker grinned and tapped the mannequin on its wigged head, "You must be related to our Mr. Data," he said, picking up the mannequin and putting him outside the tent. Riker settled down unzipped the sleeping bag that was inside the tent and crawled in, shoes and all.

-

Rita stood on her toes and pulled a photo album from the top shelf of her closet. She hadn't looked at it in a long time. Not since Chris was born. She had tried hard to move past things and put them aside. Now she had to bring out the truth again and relive what had happened to her. It wasn't something she wanted to do, but she had to, for her son. So he would know his father. "Come here Chris," she said, sitting on the couch. Chris, dressed in printed pajamas, walked over to her. He sat on the couch next to his mother and looked at the pictures in the album with wonder. Rita began explaining, "Chris, you've got to know some things about your father and I; we were police detectives a long time ago, before you were born," she began, "We were partnered together," Chris looked at her blankly. Rita tried again, "We worked together at the police department. Our boss, Captain Hutchinson thought we would work well together, like a team,"  
"Like Batman and Robin?" Chris asked, trying to mentally piece together what his mother was telling him  
"Something like that", Rita smiled, picturing Chris Lorenzo's loud attire transmogrified into Robin's tights, cape and mask  
"Oh,"  
"Anyway we worked together for five years and were best friends,"  
"The way Bert and Ernie are best friends,"  
Rita smiled, "Kind of," she went on, "we worked together and were best friends and were very close. And over time we fell in love and … got married," Rita made sure to leave the exact sequence of events out at least until Chris was older and could understand better  
"Did you guys kiss?"  
"Yes we kissed,"  
"Ewww!" Chris made a face  
Rita laughed, but then the smile fell from her face, "And then after we were married, and you were on the way, your Dad had to investigate; he had to look into some things that other people didn't want him to look into,"  
"You mean bad guys, Ma?"  
"Yes, the bad guys," she said, remembering Montoya and that fateful day  
"What happened then Ma?"  
Rita looked down at the photo album, not knowing how to continue, she simply began speaking, hoping the explanation would be enough for Chris' young ears and impressionable mind, "the bad guys used me as leverage… that is, the bad guys wanted some things from your father and knew he wouldn't give them to them, so they used me as a trade-off,"  
"Like how I trade lunch at school?" Chris asked innocently  
"Yes, um," Rita swallowed, losing her train of thought for a moment, and being momentarily awash in a sea of emotions that raged towards her as she remembered everything that had happened before, that day. "and so the trade was done, your father gave them the information and got me back, but… the bad guys didn't play fair or by their own rules, and they…" she sighed, "they shot Chris," Rita looked down blankly at the carpet, her eyes staring off into space that was filled in her mind with the vision of Chris's body flying backwards with the impact of the bullet, having shielded her and pushed her into the car for safety, sparing her life and that of her son, who now sat here next to her.  
"Ma, are you alright?"  
Rita looked up at the young face of her son; dark brown hair poking up from all directions, the green eyes that could have easily been blue had the DNA shifted a few millimeters. He was part of him, of them, of the bond they had; he was the result and everything she had to show for it. "I'll be alright Chris," she said, both to her son, and in hopes, to the man who could never be there on Earth to hear her say that again,  
"But he's with God now, right?" Chris pondered aloud, "That's what Father Hanna said last week" referring to Sunday School, "He said that people who died got to be with God and that God would take care of them forever"  
"Yeah, that's right," Rita smiled, internally amazed at what she could learn from her son, "Come on, let's get you into bed," she said, taking his hand as they walked back to his bedroom. As she tucked him under the covers, he asked her, "Ma, is Dad watching us now?" he hesitated a moment, looking at his mother's quizzical face, "You know, from Heaven,"  
"I'm sure he is," Rita smiled at her son.

Morning came, and Will was woken to the sounds of the manager and attendants opening the store up. He hurriedly grabbed the mannequin and placed it into the tent, but he saw the attendants rapidly coming towards the display area. Will jumped back into the tent and sat there, a fixed smile plastered upon his face, in hopes to look like a mannequin. The attendant came towards the tent and saw that its zipper had been opened more than he had remembered it being so. Kneeling down to adjust it, he looked into the tent. There were two mannequins in the tent now, when he clearly remembered putting only one there, a few days before. He scratched his head and stared at Will. "They're making these things too dang realistic nowadays," he thought. Just as he was about to reach and pick up Riker, Will sneezed, as the attendant was wearing strong cologne. The man screamed in terror and fell back. Will seized the moment, grabbing his backpack and ran out of the tent and out of the store through the back exit. When he was a few yards away, he stopped and looked around. It was morning and the ocean glistened and reflected the clear sunshine. The beach looked inviting and Will strode over to where the concrete of the parking lot met the sand. He slipped his sneakers and socks off, stuffing them into his backpack, and rolled his jeans up to mid calf length. He walked along the sand, feeling the granules slide between his toes. Then, Will saw someone that made him stop in his tracks. "Whoa, she's beautiful," he thought as he gazed at the brunette woman sitting under a beach umbrella. He couldn't help but stand there, transfixed at her firm, fair skin, her rich, flowing dark brown hair and her petite, athletic body. She had on a royal blue one piece swimsuit with a high cut neckline. Will couldn't believe how enamored he was with her. Sure Deanna was beautiful, but then he had been at a Betazed wedding when he had first seen her, and she had been naked, as were all the guests and people at the wedding, as this was Betazed custom. Will stood there, not six feet from this incredibly beautiful woman, and for the life of him, he couldn't move. He could scarcely believe it. He, Will Riker, was so in awe of this woman, that he could not move a muscle. He shook his head and then made up his mind to say something. No matter how beautiful she was, he wasn't going to get intimidated by her beauty so much so that he couldn't even say hello to her. He walked up to her, stopped a moment and walked around so that he was in front of her. She looked up at him from behind her sunglasses, "I'm sorry, are you looking for someone," she said, as he stood there, remaining silent. He inhaled and said, "Hi, my name's Will Riker, and I couldn't help but notice you here alone on the beach. I was wondering if you'd like some company," The woman smiled at Will and replied, "Well actually, I'm not…" but she couldn't finish her sentence, as an exuberant six-year-old boy came bounding up towards the woman. "Ma! Look at this neat rock I found!" he exclaimed, thrusting his hand forward, showing her the translucent blue stone he had discovered. Will was beside himself in shock. Not only was this woman beautiful beyond his wildest imagination, but she also had a son. That meant she was married, no doubt in his mind about that. He smiled at the brunette little boy and then at the woman, and then began walking off down the beach, away from them.

Rita looked on as the bearded man walked away from her. Inside, she felt a pain welling up in her heart for no reason. There was something about him, something she couldn't describe. Part of her screamed at her to go follow this man.

His backpack slung over a shoulder, Will walked on to the other side of the beach and found a relatively secluded area. It was open and people could easily see him, but no one was over there so he was pretty much on his own. He looked around, sitting on the sand. He felt low, homesick and yet knew that he didn't want to go back, not when his Deanna was lying in Worf's arms. He missed his home, but not knowing what home it was that he was missing. He picked up some sand in his hand and let is sift through his fingers. Sighing, he looked over to where some small children were building a sand castle. Intrigued, he walked over to the shore, mimicking what the children were doing. He took some water in his cupped hands and brought it to the sand a few feet away into the shore. He started shaping the wet sand, molding the particles with his hands until they slowly formed a small sand igloo, something he remembered from his birthplace of Alaska. He repeated his work, getting more water and making the igloo larger until it came up to his waist when he was kneeling. On his hands and knees, Will then used his finger to sculpt the outlines of bricks that had "made" the igloo. Will was so engrossed in his work that he didn't see the young onlooker until the boy spoke. "Wow Mister. That's really neat!" It was Chris, still clutching the rock he had shown his mother earlier. Will looked up at the boy, "Hi," he said, doing his best to smile, waiting for the boy to call his father over. Chris sat down in the sand near Will. "How'd you make that?" Chris asked "Well, it's like making a … one of those things," Will pointed to two girls making a sand castle a few feet away from them.  
"A sand castle?" Chris asked  
"Yes, a sand castle. The difference is it's shaped like an igloo. I used to see these when I was your age. Some people, who I considered old fashioned, would build them,"  
"Wow, that's cool," Chris replied, "I know what would make this cooler,"  
"What would make it 'cooler'?"  
"You need something to protect it from bad guys," he said, standing the flat rock on its end in front of the sand igloo. "Here, now this will protect it from bad guys,"  
"Thanks," Will said, smiling at the boy. "Well, I better sign my work,"  
"Yeah, my teacher, Ms. Sirtis says that we have to put our names on our drawings so nobody takes them"  
"Ok then, here goes," Will took his finger and scrawled his first name into the sand, "Now it's your turn," he told Chris. Chris did the same. Will looked down at the names and igloo in the sand. "It's good to meet you Chris, I'm Will,"  
"And I'm Chris," he replied, sticking out his hand. Will grinned and shook the boy's hand. Just then, Rita called out to her son. "I got to go, Ma is calling me," he got up to go, "Bye, Will! See you later!" he called out as he ran across the beach to his mother.

That evening, Rita sat down with Chris to have dinner. As he ate his macaroni and cheese, Chris grinned ear to ear. "What happened today? You look like the cat that ate the canary,"  
"No, I just had the sandwich you gave me at the beach," he said innocently  
"I mean why do you have such a huge smile today. I'm very happy to see you like this,"  
"Oh, me and my new friend Will made a sand igloo together,"  
"Wow, that's great," Rita said, feeling pleased that her son had a new friend at least, "What does he look like?" she asked  
"He's got brown hair and he likes wearing jeans in the sand instead of swim trunks,"  
"I'm glad you're making friends," Rita said, smiling, picturing Will as a boy Chris's age, with dark hair, dressed in jeans rather than trunks.

The next morning, Will sat on the beach, aimlessly drawing in the sand with a stick. Somehow the feeling of just watching the waves lap up against the shore was peaceful and helped him not think about Troi or the mysterious brunette woman. However it was nice to have a friend, even if he was the son of that captivating female.

Within a few minutes, Chris came running up to his friend. Rita trailed behind him and laid a blanket on the sand a couple of feet behind her son and settled down on it. She was surprised to see her son playing with the man she had seen yesterday. She noticed his hair color and his jeans and realized this must be the Will that Chris had talked about earlier. "I'd better keep an eye on Chris, just in case this guy is a freak,"

Periodically peering over her book, Perfect Crime, she saw Chris and the man building a sand… a sand something. It wasn't a castle. It looked more like something from a science fiction movie.

Will had scratched into the sand, a profile of the Enterprise and now he and Chris were building up the rough outline into a three dimensional profile of the starship. "Here's where the phasers go," Will told Chris, as the boy scooped up another handful of sand and patted it down, forming the phasers of the ship. "Wow, it looks so cool!" Chris said, as he inspected their work. He looked up at Will, "How come you know so much about space ships?" Will thought about whether to actually answer the question or to lie and say something else. He chose the former, "I worked on one. It's called the Enterprise," "Wow!" Chris exclaimed, his eyes becoming like saucers. He thought some more, "If you work there, how come you're down here?"  
"I felt I needed a vacation and I guess I got a longer one that I had expected," replied Will  
"Oh," Chris thought a minute, "Who did you live with on the Enterprise?"  
"There was our captain, the engineer, two lieutenant commanders, myself, our ship's doctor and," he had a hard time finishing the list, "a counselor," he finally choked out, "were the main people I worked with while on the ship,"  
"Where do you live now?" Chris implored  
"I … err… live close to the beach," Will thought to himself, "really close to the beach, like over there in the alley between those two buildings," Will looked at the sun hanging overhead, "Shouldn't you get to your parents and eat lunch. I'm sure your Mum and Dad are worried about you,"  
"Ma is back there," Chris pointed with his thumb over to where Rita sat, "and my Dad is in Heaven with God," Will's face crumbled. He wasn't prepared for a shock like that. Chris went on, "Ma said that Dad is looking at me right now. Do you think he likes the Enterprise we made?"  
"Yeah, I'm sure he does," Will said quietly. He hadn't thought about any of this. He had just figured that Chris's mother was married and that would be the end of things. Now he was torn between wanting to start a relationship with her and yet he knew that he couldn't just turn on the old Riker charm, not now when things were so complex for her.

While Will was deep in thought, some older boys came up to where Chris was playing in the sand. As they neared, they saw Will sitting near him and quickly walked away. Chris looked from Will to the boys walking across the sand. The wheels in his head turned. "Come on Will, there's lots of food for lunch. You can eat it with Ma and me," he grabbed Will's arm and pulled him along the sand to where Rita sat with her book. "Ma, this is my friend Will. Can he eat with us?" The introduction was simple and direct.

Rita looked up at the man and suddenly felt a rush of blood to her face. She didn't believe in love at first sight, and she knew through experience not to believe in lust at first sight either.

As the sky darkened and many of the beachgoers began to pack up and head home, Chris stuffed the towel and other items into the bag that Rita had brought with them while Rita talked with Will, "I'm glad you could stay for lunch, and I'm glad that Chris found a friend, although I've got to say I expected you to be a lot younger and not even have all your adult teeth." Will grinned, toeing the sand with his sneakered foot; "So, Chris mentioned you work in the space industry, NASA I believe?"  
"Something like that, you could say," not sure if he could tell her the truth,  
"Anyway, we'd better go home," Rita said, motioning to Chris to follow her. As the two of them walked towards their car, Rita saw Will out of the corner of her eye as he walked between two buildings into the alley, settle down on the ground and recline a pile of urban debris, using it as a makeshift pillow. Rita's heart ached for Will, even though she didn't know why. Taking Chris by his hand and toting the bag of beach items with her, Rita slowly made her way towards the alley where Will had propped himself up against a large trash bag.

Will looked up to see Rita standing there, Chris in tow, Looking down and feeling unsure how to explain his surroundings, he was shocked and surprised to hear her say, "I know its not much, but our apartment has a spare room that we're using for storage, but its better than sleeping in this alley for another night," she looked down at her son, "Chris has taken quite a shine to you and it'd be nice having a babysitter around," putting out her hand, Rita smiled when Will took it, standing up and hoisting his backpack over his shoulder.

Will sprawled out on the battered couch that was in the spare room of Rita's apartment. Various sized cardboard boxes with labels ranging from "Living Room" to "Bathroom" were pushed up against the free wall space. The other wall had a makeshift desk made from two mismatched bedside tables with a wide plank of wood traversing the space between them. A swivel chair with the backrest missing served as the sole seating arrangement for the room. The couch, while ostensibly the best piece of furniture designed for sitting, was permanently in bed mode, with the back cushions having long since removed and lost or thrown away, a twin bed sheet put over the seat cushions, a pillow and discolored Afghan throw served as the closest thing to the comforts of home. Riker had pushed the crocheted blanket to the foot end of his "bed" with his feet and was getting comfortable on the bed, rubbing his shoulders into the cushions under him. To onlookers, his actions resembled what dogs did before they slept or when they wanted their belly rubbed. Will didn't mind relaxing in his new surroundings; he had been the one who moved the boxes over, put together the desk and hauled the couch and swivel chair from the apartment's storage area. Will's jeans were thrown over the desk and his sneakers and socks were tossed under the desk in a small heap.

There was a knock at the door, "I was wondering if you needed something?" Rita called through the closed door. Will jumped, scrambling to the desk and hurriedly pulling on his jeans, "Uh, no I'm ok," he said in a rush, trying to keep his boxers from being caught in his jean's zipper. "Enter," he said, out of habit. Rita came in with a cardboard box marked "Purple Heart", "Its some things I was going to give away… I thought you could use something in here," she said, setting the box down on the floor next to the couch, "the bathroom's free too, if you need to use it," As she left the room, Will replied, "Thanks, it's really nice of you to do all this for me,"  
"Don't mention it," she said, turning around in the doorway to face Will. Then in a flash, she was gone.

Rita braced herself as soon as she got into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. "What's wrong with you Rita?" she thought to herself; she'd never felt like this before, not since Chris, not since …"I'll race you the nearest motel the moment they separate us," she'd said to him, and he's cracked a joke that he'd make her aneurysm burst. Rita sighed to herself, "Oh Chris, what do I do?" she thought

A few faded pastel dress shirts, a torn pair of acid washed jeans, a couple of loud neckties that he was sure no one could've worn in their right mind. Will sifted through the box's contents. "I'll need suitable underclothes," he thought. He still couldn't believe his good fortune, being allowed to stay here,  
"Hi Will!" Chris busted through the door, "I want you to check out what I did in my room!" he paused a moment, "What'cha doing?" he asked, staring at the box of clothes  
"Oh, your Mom let me have some clothes to wear while I'm here," he replied, holding up the torn jeans and neckties  
"Wow!" Chris exclaimed, but soon his attention waned and he shuffled over to Will's backpack, "What's in here?" he asked, fingering the bag's zipper  
"Just some things I had with me, but you'd better not touch that," he warned  
"Why not?" Chris asked, looking at the zipper closure of the bag even more intently  
"Look, just don't," Will replied, his voice a big gruffer, "Come on," he softened a bit, "let's go see what you wanted to show me earlier,"

"Yes Cap, we're fine," Rita answered into the handset cradled between her shoulder and neck, as she put together sandwiches for lunch  
"Now Rita, be sure to tell us if you need anything," Frannie said over the three way connection. Harry reclined in an armchair, held the portable phone's handset and Frannie stood at the corded wall phone by the kitchen counter.  
"Of course Frannie, I'll let you know,"  
"Now tell us about this mystery guy," Harry said, sounding like a concerned father  
"Will?" Rita answered, "he's tall, has brown hair and a beard; and for some reason, Chris and he got on like wildfire," she referred to her son, not her late husband  
"Tell us more dear," Frannie implored  
"He works in the aerospace industry, and kept talking about star ships and space travel," Rita went on, "He must be stationed in Houston or maybe Cape Canaveral,"  
"Ah, so he's local," Harry's intrigue peaked, "But Rita, you've got to be careful. He sounds like he just walked here out of thin air,"  
"I know Cap, but relax; I'm a big girl. I can handle myself"  
"Of course Rita," Frannie said, "but we're just concerned for you,"  
"Yes, and we want you to remember that we're always here for you,"  
"I know Cap, you and Frannie are the closes thing I've got to family," she replied, "you know, why don't you too come by tonight, for dinner. It'll give you both a chance to check Will out,"  
"Ok, we'll see you tonight at seven," Harry said  
"Seven it is; bye!"  
"Bye!" they said in unison

"Impressive," Will said, looking at Chris's work; the floor was covered with Chris's crayon and pencil drawings of the Enterprise based on Will's description of the ship and its crew. He sat on the floor and picked up one drawing that depicted a rather lumpy headed bald man wearing a black and red shirt with a yellow triangle on the left chest area. "Captain Picard, right" he grinned

"Will, I have to…" Rita paused as she turned the corner and saw Chris and Will sitting on the floor in Chris's room, having a rather engaging conversation about some sketches Chris had done, "This must be what its like to…" she held herself back from completing the thought, not wanting to even allow herself to think it. "Chris was the one, but Will is so…much like Chris?" The thought didn't make sense, and yet it did, in a way. As Rita walked back to her bedroom, she thought, "Chris played the saxophone and Will played the trombone," remembering her and Will's conversation at the impromptu beach picnic that day when her son Chris had brought him over as a new friend, "and he certainly has a way with words," recalling how Will hadn't minced words about letting her know how he felt about her, at first. And yet now, things seemed different.

"Coming!" Rita called from her bedroom, as she put her earrings on. The doorbell had just rung and she was sure it was Harry and Frannie  
"I'll get it Ma!" shouted  
"Wait Chris, look first and tell me who it is," Rita said, hurriedly walking to the door, before her son let just anyone in the apartment  
"Its Frannie Maw and Harry Paw!" he exclaimed, jumping like a Golden Labrador pup  
"Ok hold on a second," Rita came over and unlocked the door.  
"Hey Harry Paw!" Chris jumped up into Harry's arms  
"Oh!" Harry groaned involuntarily, "Chris, you're getting heavy,"  
"What'd you bring me?" Chris demanded, jumping down from Harry's aching arms  
"Chris!" Rita was shocked, "apologize right now," to Harry and Frannie she said, "I don't know what got into him; usually he's pretty good about this thing,"  
"Its ok Rita," Frannie said, reaching into her purse, "We actually did bring a little something for Chris,"  
"All right!" Chris exclaimed  
"Chris, come on, apologize first," Rita's no nonsense look emblazoned on her face  
:"I'm sorry," Chris said, looking down at his sneakers, "But I really want to know what you got me," Rita groaned and held her head for a moment. Frannie smiled at Rita, then turned to Chris and fished in her purse and produced a toy  
"Oh wow!" exclaimed Chris, "It's so neat!" he grabbed the toy and ran off to his room. Rita rolled her eyes, "while he's engrossed in that, I'd like you to meet Will; he's the guy I had mentioned earlier," she said as she went into the kitchen to get some drinks for her guests. Will was standing at the other entrance to the kitchen, closing the cuff buttons on a faded dress shirt. He had paired the shirt with his jeans and sneakers from earlier, having taken up Rita's offer to make full use of the bathroom, getting a shower, shave and even shampooing his hair before Harry and Frannie showed up. Rita opened the refrigerator and removed a bottle of Café Zinfandel; looking up as she closed the door, she saw Will leaning against the entrance to the kitchen.  
"You startled me," Rita said, placing the bottle on the counter  
"Sorry; I was minding my own business," Will replied, sounding rather nonchalant. He looked at the bottle, "Something doesn't look right,"  
"What do you mean?" Rita asked. Before Will could respond, Frannie came in, "Sorry Rita, but Heschy was thinking about skipping the wine altogether and we'd just sit a bit while the meal simmered," she looked at the stove cursorily  
"No no, that's fine," Rita smiled, putting the bottle back into the refrigerator

"So Will," began Harry, "Rita tells us you're working in the aerospace program,"  
"Something like that," Will said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch, "Actually I'm working with a ….mobile space station of sorts. You might call it a starship,"  
"That sounds very interesting," Frannie said, leaning forward in her seat, "Do continue, please,"  
"Um," Will started  
"It's called the Enterprise," Chris piped up, sticking his head through the doorway  
"The Enterprise?" Harry said, an eyebrow raised. Chris ran in the room, "Yeah, and Will is the second in command; Captain Picard calls him Number One!"  
"Number One?" Frannie smiled. Will looked away  
"Its like the first mate of a boat!" Chris explained after a moment of thinking  
"Ah," Harry nodded, "So Will, it sounds like you've got a promising career on this ship,"  
"Thanks," he replied absent mindedly, "I'm on an extended leave, you could say,"  
"The chicken!" Rita shouted, bolting to the kitchen. Harry, Frannie, Will and Chris followed in hot pursuit  
"Oh no!" moaned Rita, bent over and peering into the stove at the now blackened chicken.  
"Oh Rita, I'm sorry," Frannie said as she held Chris back, "Let's see if we can salvage this,"  
"No," Rita shook her head, looking at the chicken, which was blackened to a crisp. She donned a pair of clean gardening gloves and hauled the tray from the stove onto the counter and cut into the bird with a serrated knife. It was completely uneatable as well as unsalvageable.  
"Well," Harry tried to cheer everyone up, "why don't we take this group outside," he turned to Rita, "Rita, you've put so much effort into this meal, and Frannie and I aren't going to let a faulty oven timer or coils or whatnot ruin this evening. We're taking you, Chris and Will out to dinner,"  
"Oh Cap, I don't know …" she replied  
"No Rita, we won't take no for an answer," Frannie said, taking her hand, "I'm sure between you and Will, you can get the stove working, but all that can wait until tomorrow. Tonight we're all together and the evening is young, and so are we,"

Settled around a table at the Khyber Indian restaurant, Rita, Chris, Will, Harry and Frannie perused the menu.  
"The pan-ear marsala looks good," said Chris, trying to string together the letters that made up the various menu items.  
"Its paneer masala," Rita corrected him, looking over his shoulder to see which item he was specifying  
"What do you think about this Heschy?", Frannie asked, pointing to the chicken tikka masala  
"Wow, my favorite Indian dish!" he grinned  
The waiter, a thin reedy young man of about twenty something arrived, "What would you like to order tonight? Anything to drink?"  
"Ah, a coffee, black," Harry replied  
"Heschy, before dinner?" Frannie looked quizzical at her husband  
"And you sir?" the waiter asked Will, allowing Harry and Frannie to dispute the drink dilemma  
"Uh, the Reveilo sounds good," he said, wondering how it compared to Synthenol, "Seems a bit much for just me though,"  
"We'll split it," Rita heard herself abruptly say. "What am I doing?" she thought, but before she could say another word, the waiter was off, surprisingly fast for his line of work

After an evening of talking, laughing and getting to know one another, some of which was eased by the Reveilo which Will and Rita cumulatively brought three fourths of the way down the bottle; everyone piled into the Rita's SUV to head home. With Rita driving, Will in the passenger seat, and Chris sandwiched between Harry and Frannie, the vehicle seemed loaded to its full passenger capacity.

Rita tucked Chris into bed. Snuggled under the covers, with a few stuffed animals, several metal race cars and a couple of sand toys, there didn't seem to be much room in the twin bed for Chris.  
"You're sure you're comfortable in all that?" Rita asked  
"Yep!" Chris replied, pulling the covers up to his chin, thusly covering his cotton pajamas  
"Alright," she conceded, "So, which story do you want me to read you tonight?" she thumbed through some books on his bookshelf, a six foot wooden structure bolted to the wall of the apartment, "We have Aladdin, The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh, Superman, Batman, Thomas The Tank Engine.."  
"No! I don't want those!" Chris interrupted  
"Ok, Hmm" Rita mulled for a minute. Before she has adequate time to think up a story, Chris shatters her train of thought, "I want Will,"  
Rita was taken aback, she'd known that Chris had found an unlikely friend in Will, but now he was replacing her for bedtime stories? "Sure," she said, getting up.

Will stretched out on the couch, wearing discount store sleep pants; his jeans lying on the makeshift desk, when Rita's head poked through the doorway, "You're not going to believe this, but he wants you to tell him a bedtime story,"  
"You're right, I don't believe it" Will said, sitting up, "But sure, why not,"

Chris rolled over onto his back, pushing the metal cars, and two dark brown stuffed bears over to the side of the bed, kicking a third light blue and white bear to the foot of the bed, and clutching to the remaining bear, a curly furred light brown bear, which was missing a button eye. The sand toys had fallen out of the bed minutes ago, lying in a misshapen pile between the bed and the bedside table. Will sat on the edge of the bed, squashing a dark brown teddy bear in the process. He pulled the bear from under himself and turned to Chris. "What kind of story do you want to hear?"  
"A real one!" he grinned  
Will sighed, how was he supposed to tell a real story that didn't sound like something out of a television show? "When we on the Enterprise and were flying to help another group of people one day and…"

After precariously relating how he had kissed Soren, a member of an androgynous race, leaving out most of the trail proceedings and aftermath, where she was "fixed" into stating she had no gender, like the rest of her people, Chris lay fast asleep, holding on fiercely to his one eyed teddy bear.  
Rita, who had been standing in the doorway the whole time, was both in awe that Will had managed to keep Chris entertained and was agog at the story, "It can't be true," she thought. Will stood up slowly, not wanting to disturb Chris' sleep. After he'd gotten to the door, he ventured to speak, even that in a whisper,  
"Never thought he'd get to sleep," he smiled  
"Yeah, and that was some story you told him,"  
"Um, yeah," his face reddened  
"You're sure it wasn't all that wine doing the talking?" she joked  
"Pretty sure," he mumbled as they walked down the hall. When they reached the guest room and Rita's bedroom doors, a few feet away from each other, Rita turned to Will, "You know, this week has been one of the first times that I can remember having a conversation that didn't involve juice, snacks, cartoons or crayons,"  
"I, uh, know what you mean," Will said, staring at his bare feet for a moment, "You know, it's still pretty early in the night. I'm going to see if there's something on television," he moved towards the living room, turning back, "if you're alright with that; I mean, it's your house,"  
"No sure, it's fine," Rita replied, her hand on the doorknob. Will shuffled over to the couch and plopped down, the night's meal creating a warm sensation in his stomach. Flicking on the television, he scanned the channels for awhile before settling on a show about teenagers who were secretly aliens.

Before long, Will felt a pair of eyes staring him down. Turning his head away from the screen, he saw Rita standing a foot away from the couch, "Want to sit down?" he said, patting the empty couch seat next to him, "it's pretty good,", as two Caucasian teenagers talked aimlessly onscreen at a deserted football field.  
"I, uh, just came down to get something hot to drink,"  
"Oh," Will looked down at the floor  
"But this," she glanced at the screen, "looks interesting,"

An hour later, the show is over and a movie about an alien infecting an astronaut is playing on the television screen. "Wow, it really seems to be a night for science fiction, huh?" Will says, but when he turns to hear Rita's response, all he gets is a soft snore. She's kind of slumped over against the couch, so he scoots closer to her, allowing her to lean on his shoulder.  
Murmuring as her face rubs against Will's shoulder, Rita smiles in her sleep. Nuzzling his shoulder, she leans up towards his face. Will gazes at her for a moment, his eyes transfixed on her beauty. Tilting his head down, his lips meet hers. Going by instinct, she kisses him back; soft at first, then deep, hard, passionate.

But just as fast as it came, the magic fades. Rita's eyes snap open and she pulls away. Will looks at her, crestfallen, "I uh," he begins  
"No, its ok, I," Rita tries to stay herself, propping herself up and sitting straighter on the couch  
"So it was," Will's voice trailed off  
"Yes, a mistake," Rita hastily says, "So we agree that it was a mistake," she clamped her mouth shut, reeling in the remembered memory of the last time she'd said that  
"Well, I," Will started to say  
"No, go on," she implored, wanting to hear his thoughts.  
He looked up, "Did you feel it too?"  
"Yes," she looked away, "I just feel its too… soon,"  
"Oh," he said dejectedly  
"But I really do like having you around," she touched his hand, "You've been such a help with Chris, and he really enjoys your company. It's just that I never tried to replace his father and,"  
"I understand," squeezing her hand, "I've got a friend, well. We had something together and she met someone else, and he's got a kid," Will tried to explain, "and I know she'd never dream of trying to replaces his mother, "Will's thoughts strayed to Alexander, but then to Deanna and Worf being together; he frowned  
Rita sighed, "The last time I told someone it was a mistake, was with Chris's father. Will, I've had so many people I care about ripped away from me. My father, too many boyfriends to count, and then Chris; my husband, and Chris's father,"  
"I'm not going anywhere," Will reassured her  
"He said the same thing," she replied, referring to Chris, her Sam  
"Maybe I can't give you a guarantee, but I'm here now,"  
"I know," she said, moving closer, "and it feels so good to have you here," she leaned against him  
"I got a question for you,"  
"Shoot," she said, nuzzling his shoulder  
"Do you believe in second chances?"  
"I'd like to,"  
"Then tell me you felt something when we kissed,"  
She showed him.

Rita awoke to the sun streaming through her bedroom windows. Feeling the softness of her sheets under her body, she snuggled against her pillow and under her bedcovers. Her eyes suddenly snapped open upon realization that she was completely naked under the covers. Hesitantly rolling over, she saw Will lying there, grinning and apparently staring at her. No, staring would be the wrong word; he was gazing at her, much as one would gaze at a painting hung in a museum, except Rita was sure that no one had ever smiled like that at a painting.  
"What, how?" she tried to make sense of what happened  
Will looked at her sheepishly, "Well, one thing led to another and … the couch got to be too small for us, and"  
"But how did I end up in bed?"  
"Well, I can tell you that you didn't walk here," he grinned  
"You carried me?" she replied, taken aback  
"Well, I….Mmm", Will didn't have a chance to answer. Rita had enveloped him in a fervent kiss. As her tongue playfully pressed against his, he couldn't imagine being anywhere else.  
Rita pulled back, her head ringing from the myriad of thoughts and flew by her conscious.  
"I love you," Will gushed, being rather uncharacteristic for him; but then, it had been a rather uncharacteristic week for him  
"I know you do," Rita replied, trying very hard not to jump Will right then and there  
"Then why can't we do anything about it," Will implored, "I want to shout it from the rooftops!"  
Rita sighed, "I do too, honest I do Will," she held him tight, "but as much as I love you, the most important thing in my life is Chris," she referred to her son  
"Of course he is," Will grinned, "and he's the first person I want to tell,"  
"Alright," she buried her face into his beard, "We'll tell him… together,"


End file.
